Tag: writings (Page 43 of 63)

visitor

July 8, 2011 / jeanne / 20 Comments

Meltdown

She’s coming next week,
the new girlfriend,
and though i’m eager to meet Her,
i worry i’ll embarrass
my son
when She sees
an overweight,
out of shape
redhead from a bottle.
a woman who has
pretty teeth
(thanks, mom)
but too many chins
and a face that
increasingly
resembles her
daddy’s side of the family.

i know nothing about Her
save her name.
that’s unusual,
but He tells me He wants
me to meet Her
with fresh eyes.

does She like to read
and if so, what?
does she paint?
dance?
draw?
stitch?
garden?

does She
laugh easily and often?

does She enjoy long
philosophical talks
that go into the
dark:thirty hours?

does She cheat at canasta?
shop off the list?

will She be territorial?
possessive?
will i feel the need to
ask Her permission to
spend time with my son alone?

will He make apologies
dressed as
explanations
on their way back to colorado?
there was a time
when i lived to
embarrass Him,
but He’s not in
high school any more.

i remember the first
time i took my husband
to my grandparents’ house.
it was as though i were
visiting for the first time, too.
seeing the concrete block steps,
the small, rickety handrail.
the rusty screen door,
the mesh full of holes that
allowed flies to traipse
in and out of that kitchen
at will.
the gold ceramic fish
with three different-sized
bubbles that decorated
the single bathroom.

it was the first time i noticed
that their feather bed
with the vinyl-covered headboard
was in their den,
the room that housed
not only their bed
but two rocking chairs, a space heater,
grandmother’s treadle sewing machine,
the dresser,
home of necessary toiletries
and fabric scraps,
the telephone on the wall,
and the television
that all but dialed itself
to live atlanta wrestling
every saturday night.

it was the first time i saw
that the combination
bedroom/den
was illuminated by a
single bare bulb
hanging down from the ceiling.

i wasn’t at all embarrassed,
just surprised that
i’d never really
seen these things before.
that the place where i’d spent so much
of my life
was new to me
on that day.

How to Move a Mountain

July 7, 2011 / jeanne / 7 Comments

Flowers

Today I am tired – tired to the molecular level, I tell you – and that’s why it could have gone either way: I could’ve gone ballistic, or in the interest of energy conservation, I could’ve said nothing . . .

Today is my brother’s wedding anniversary, you see, and last night he called from Afghanistan asking me to send flowers to his lovely wife, Robin – something I wasn’t able to do until around 2:30 this afternoon. I went online, googled florists in her city and state, then scrolled down to find the magic words “same day delivery.” The one I decided on promised to deliver the same day provided the order was placed by 3:30 p.m. Eastern Time Zone and you paid an additional fee. Having an hour to spare and the $2.95 in additional fees, I finished placing my order with 20 minutes to spare then turned my attention back to wrestling the to do list.

Thank goodness the email was up in the background, so I saw the confirmation email followed minutes later by the dreaded there’s-a-problem-with-your-order-call-us-at-your-earliest-convenience email. Well, things immediately shifted and right then became my earliest convenience so I called, and after 7 minutes on hold, Dianne answered and explained that there were no florists in the area willing to deliver today, but they’d all be happy to deliver the flowers sometime tomorrow.

Dianne said something about florists sometimes not being able to get their drivers back in time – to which I said quietly and calmly that I’d met the deadline and their web site was pretty definitive about same day delivery provided orders were placed by 3:30 p.m. Eastern time, which I had done. Dianne then said she’d call Robin and explain that it was their fault and promise her that they would deliver the flowers tomorrow – to which I (still using my best calmly and quietly tone of voice) said that I thought the element of surprise was part of the charm of receiving flowers, didn’t she, then I explained about the anniversary, and being the hopeless romantic she must assuredly be, Dianne then sat up straight (I could hear it in her voice) and said she wasn’t making any promises, but she’d call around and see if she couldn’t explain the situation and find somebody willing to delivery the flowers on their way home or something.

In less than 5 minutes, Dianne called to say that she’d found a florist who, after hearing the story, was willing to drop the flowers off on her way home.

AND they were going to upgrade the order, add a few flowers and a bigger bow or something.

AND they were covering all upcharges on same day delivery.

So you see, sometimes moving a mountain is as easy as 1, 2, 3:

1) Lead with friendly.
2) Be patient.
3) Tell the story.

and TA-DA – everybody goes home smiling.

piecing

June 23, 2011 / jeanne / 10 Comments

Hardhead

do you see the silhouette there?
the face in the stone?
you need to know this about me:
i am bad to personify.
equally bad to tell stories . . .

every morning
at dark thirty,
she pulls her soft, wispy white hair,
a gift from her matriarchal lineage,
into a bun at the nape of her neck
to keep it out of her way
while she feeds fabric
under the needle
that dances up and down
in direct proportion
to the cast iron pedal
she pumps up and down with her feet.

the steady whirring
of the old singer machine
fills the air with music
as she creates quilts –
one for each child,
one for each grandchild –
from assorted scraps of fabric
purchased from
her friend across the street,
paid for with one of her
award-winning
pineapple upside-down cakes.

wishes

June 13, 2011 / jeanne / 5 Comments

Lotus

i wish
i had something profound
to share with you,
something that would
change your life
or better still,
enhance your life.
something that would
validate and confirm
what you already know to be true.

i wish
i had something profound
to share with you,
something that would
make you see the world
or yourself
or even your cat
differently.

i wish
i had something profound
to share with you,
something that would
encourage you,
give you the nudge
you need
to start that project
you’ve carried around
for so long.

i wish
i had something profound
to share with you,
something that would
make you smile
or better still
laugh right out loud.

i wish
i had something profound
to share with you,
something that would
erase all the bruises
that have made you
tuck yourself in
and be smaller
than you really are.

i wish
i had something profound
to share with you,
something that would
convince you
that your life
is precious to me
and to so many others.
something that would
convince you
that the world
needs your project,
your talent,
your words,
your ideas,
your creativity,
your love,
your laughter.

mostly, though,
i wish
it was as easy
as serving you
a page full
of words
for you to know,
to know at the cellular level,
how precious
you are.

trust 30: day 3

June 2, 2011 / jeanne / 3 Comments

This month, because I live for non-conformity (and to keep from having to think of something to write about) I am participating in a challenge designed to celebrate Ralph Waldo Emerson’s 208th birthday. (Honestly, he doesn’t look a day over 112 to me.)

Today’s prompt:
It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

The world is powered by passionate people, powerful ideas, and fearless action. What’s one strong belief you possess that isn’t shared by your closest friends or family? What inspires this belief, and what have you done to actively live it?

Clouds

I don’t believe that differences in religious persuasions or political philosophies diminish one or magnify another.
I do believe it’s arrogant to try to impose belief systems on one another.

I don’t believe prayer is a stage or a confessional.
I do believe being a prayer is better than any spoken prayer I’ve ever had to sit through.

I don’t believe patriarchy has served anybody well.
I do believe it’s time for the feminine to rise up,
and be recognized,
and honored,
and celebrated.
to be embraced
and embodied.

I don’t believe women must become sacrificial lambs before their children to be a good mother.
I do believe it’s time to rip that page from the rulebook.

I don’t believe power is synonymous with power over.
I do believe I’m snatching my power out from under you right about now.

I don’t believe that traditional education has nearly enough respect and encouragement for independent, original thoughts.
I do believe that at its worst, traditional education creates drones (and I also believe we have a gracious plenty of those already.)

I don’t believe we possess a finite amount of creativity.
I do believe trying to use your creativity all up is the best way to grow more.

Because I don’t believe that every member of my family nods their head in agreement everything I put forth (here and otherwise),
I do believe that they sometimes entertain fantasies of having me rendered mute in a witness protection program.

today

June 1, 2011 / jeanne / 3 Comments

Today’s prompt:
Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing. The force of character is cumulative. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

If ‘the voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tracks,’ then it is more genuine to be present today than to recount yesterdays. How would you describe today using only one sentence? Tell today’s sentence to one other person. Repeat each day.

~~~~~~~

ColoradoClouds

Today I laughed
and stitched
and wrote like there was a
clearance sale on words
in a store that welcomes checks.

15 minutes

June 1, 2011 / jeanne / 1 Comment

Today’s prompt:
(Okay, it was yesterday’s prompt, but I never got around to it yesterday, so in the spirit of nonconformity, I’m doubling up today.)
We are afraid of truth, afraid of fortune, afraid of death, and afraid of each other. Our age yields no great and perfect persons. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

You just discovered you have fifteen minutes to live.
1. Set a timer for fifteen minutes.
2. Write the story that has to be written.

~~~
CuteClock

it isn’t about clocks.
(but isn’t this the cutest little clock?
sure do hope to inherit it one day.)
or words.
it’s about living.
pure, unadulterated
living.
so what say
we rev up and
live a chapter
in that 15 minutes?

i love her. i seriously love her.

May 8, 2011 / jeanne / 6 Comments

MomWBabyJeanne1

Artist and writer Frederick Frank wrote: “I know artists whose medium is life itself and who express the inexpressible without brush, pencil, chisel, or guitar. They neither paint nor dance. Their medium is being. Whatever their hand touches has increased life. They see and don’t have to draw. They are the artists of being alive.”

She wakes up each day
to a blank canvas of 24 hours,
and she fills it with strokes of
love and laughter
and
nourishment and beauty.
She is a creator of relationships.
Friends, family, strangers,
flowers and food . . .
those are her paints.

Her muse may wait for her
in the kitchen
and in her garden,
but her life is her canvas.
Her life is her art.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.
I love you.

AlisonAndAda

so there

May 6, 2011 / jeanne / 4 Comments

Unfurling

Today my to do list is not my best friend.
Usually I actually enjoy the structure
my to do list affords,
lines through completed items
testament to my
worthiness.

But not today.

I’m tired.
Tired to the bone, I tell you.
Which is no small wonder
given all the
huge things
I’ve checked off
My List
since February.

But still that one pesky
committee member
chides me about
all I still have to do,
(which means that I haven’t
earned any down time)
and how I can’t write
or sit
or read,
how I can’t slow down
until
I’ve wrestled that to do list
into a daily structure
of doable proportion.

That is my ultimate plan,
it’s true.

And it’s also true
that my husband
treks down the mountain
to work every day
at a job he doesn’t
especially like.
But I wonder how long
I must pay penance for him.
I wonder how long
I must bear this guilt
that I can’t even articulate.
I wonder if I’ll ever
really be rid of the notion
that worthiness is
directly proportional
to the size of a paycheck,
rendering everything I do
invisible
and of no consequence.

Writing is no carrot,
I say today.
I don’t shout it
and there’s no gnashing of teeth
or clenched fists as props.
I just simply say:
Writing is my blood.
And while it’s true
that my one word –
one itty bitty word
to wrap my ink around,
something that would tell you instantly
who I am
and
what I am about
is still elusive,
today I’m just too tired
to fret about it.

So I’m having myself an
At Will Day.
I nap
At Will.
I read
At Will.
I sit by the falls
or eat
or have a Smirnoff’s Ice (grape)
At Will.
Most importantly:
I write
At Will.

Yes, that is my
to do list for today.
And hear me on this:
I’ll do things
At Will
in spite of the
committee members who may attempt
to guilt me into submission
because today’s submission
is defined by another
committee member.
And since I seem to be on a roll,
I’m hereby officially
and publicly
nominating Her
to chair this committee that is Jeanne.

So there.

blank

May 1, 2011 / jeanne / 5 Comments

sand

Today I am blank.
Not as fill-in-the but
just blank.
Blank.
I need an umbrella
Something to hang my interests under
A cause
A central theme
I crave a word.
A single itty bitty word
that tells you
who i am
and what i am about.

If i had
my word,
I am creative enough
to twist
and turn,
to wrap any story
and any experience
and even any question
right around it.

I would make clothes
out of that word.
My house would
utter that word
in every nook and niche.
That word would bloom
in my garden.
It would trample weeds
and sing me awake in the morning.
That word
would be my jungle gym
and my ticklebug.

But I haven’t a word.
Not a single word.

Sigh.

Maybe tomorrow
Or the next day.